forget me not
by The Cheshire Riddler
Summary: For Tiger Lily, remembering is a choice, and this is an easy decision. One-sided Tiger Lily/Peter. Implied Wendy/Peter.


**Author's Note: **Short and not very sweet (sorry, not Seddie). Peter Pan has always been my love.

**Warning: **Nothing graphic and no bad language.

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"_All this has happened before, and it will all happen again."_

- From _Peter Pan_ (Disney)

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Forget Me Not

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Tiger Lily doesn't remember growing up.

She knows her mother and father; after all, he is the Chief of the Indians on Neverland. She knows she is a princess and knows that time never passes on Neverland. She had wondered once, how it was she had grown to be not a baby if time never passed. But then Tiger Lily had been distracted and never thought on it again.

Like many things on Neverland, she had just accepted it and had moved on. There are so many wonderful, magical things to do on Neverland, that worrying and thinking is not a desirable pastime to Tiger Lily.

She enjoys sneaking through the forest, spying on the fairies, building fires, and dancing. And she can do any whenever she wants, because she is _Princess _Tiger Lily and everyone has to listen to princesses, don't you know?

But as for memories, Tiger Lily barely remembers what had happened last week; her days blur and people drift in and out. It doesn't bother her. She recalls where to get food and drink and all of those basics. She knows where certain places are and who some people are. But memory is not a required key to survival on Neverland. In fact, memory messed with your mind, makes you weak.

Holding onto things that ought to be let go—that is what memory is, to Tiger Lily. Someone had told her that once, but she can't recall who. It isn't important, anyway. Tiger Lily knows that words are true.

Tiger Lily sees it, sees memory, in Peter Pan. In the way his eyes will linger on a flash of the color blue; in the way he stares out into the sky or deep into the fire. In the way he will no longer even speak the word 'mother'. In the way he will sometimes turn, excited, to say something to someone who is not there.

Or, most of all, in the way he looks at Tiger Lily sometimes but doesn't _look _at her.

It frustrates her, knowing that he is remembering something—something she cannot take a part in. Tiger Lily tries to remember, she thinks really hard. But she cannot figure out what is so important about the color blue or mothers. So whenever Peter sinks into one of his moods, Tiger Lily distracts him.

She knows it isn't right, that she should leave Peter to his thinking. But thinking, Tiger Lily knows, is a very adult and un-fun thing to do. And Peter Pan is the embodiment of childish fun. She will clap her hands in front of Peter's face and zoom off, yelling back to him that he is "it". She will steal Peter's hat. She will start dancing around the fire. She will shove one of the Lost Boys.

She will not let Peter remember, because then there is a chance he will forget her.

"Peter," one of the Lost Boys says. Tiger Lily isn't sure which one it is. She can hardly keep track of the ever-changing flow of Lost Boys. This boy continues, "Why haven't you told us any stories lately?"

Peter Pan is seated, legs crossed, in front of the fire. He is not wearing his headdress, something that irks Tiger Lily for a reason she isn't sure of. Peter is wearing his hat and a somber expression. He barely looks up at the Lost Boy who has spoken.

Peter replies, "Because."

Even Tiger Lily thinks this is an unsatisfactory answer.

The Lost Boys whisper among themselves, throwing looks at Peter Pan, who doesn't take any notice of them. Tiger Lily knows they are devising a way to snap Peter out of it, to tear him away from his memories. That is her job, Tiger Lily thinks possessively.

She is not old enough to know, not old enough for her feelings for Peter to develop. She will forever be stuck in this stage, never to advance or fall back. Never for anything to come of it.

Tiger Lily instantly is on her feet, walking away from the women who had been talking at her and braiding her hair. Tiger Lily's feet take her to Peter, and she is standing in front of him almost before she knows what she is doing.

Her hair falling out of its braid, her headband is nowhere to be found, and her feet are gloriously bare and stained with mud. She feels strong and reckless, in the way children are. Tiger Lily doesn't know what beautiful is, will forever be stuck in the age just before beginning womanhood. She doesn't know what it is she's missing, so she cannot be sad.

Such is the bliss of ignorance, of Neverland.

Peter Pan looks up at her, and Tiger Lily is pleased to see that he's actually looking tonight. She holds out her hand and orders "Get up."

He takes her hand, surprisingly docile, and stands. He is only barely taller than her, and he peers an inch down at her and says, "What is it? I'm busy." His hat is in his hand now, not on his head, and Tinkerbell has appeared out of nowhere. The fairy sits on Peter's shoulder and glare at Tiger Lily.

Tiger Lily pouts. "You're not busy," she argues, "you're just sitting there."

"But I am sitting, and that is doing something." Peter Pan points out, and his logical is sound.

But she has never been a gracious loser, so Tiger Lily lets tears pool up in her eyes. She sniffles pathetically and stares down at the ground. In some deep corner of her heart she is ashamed of herself, for manipulating a well-meaning boy, but it's a deep, deep corner and doesn't register. Tiger Lily may never get older, but she is old enough to know how to get people to do what she wants.

Peter instantly holds up his hands, placating. "Alright, alright," he mutters, sighing heavily, shoving his hat onto his head. "What'd you wanna do?"

Perking up, Tiger Lily smiles at him, pleased. "Let's go to the Lagoon," she suggest, clapping her hands eagerly. She hasn't been there recently, not that she can remember, and she's sure she hasn't been there with Peter for a long time. Tiger Lily recalls hazily that Peter loves the Lagoon, loves playing his pipe for the mermaids and exploring the undersea delights. Tiger Lily is not so selfish as to only care if she is happy. She likes making Peter happy, too.

But Peter Pan scowls thunderously and he barks, "No!" He crosses his hands across his chest and floats a few feet in the air. He drifts there, hovering, as if deliberating.

Tiger Lily knows Peter is deciding if he should fly back to his home or stay to go home with the Lost Boys. She takes advantage of his pause, shouting up to him. "Peter! Peter, let's just play pretend then. Peter?" Her voice has taken on a tone of desperation, because Tiger Lily knows there is truly a chance that Peter will leave her.

It hasn't always been this way, Tiger Lily remembers that much.

It had used to be that Peter Pan would seek her out, to play with someone other than the Lost Boys. She had used to been able to order him under some, to direct what they would play and when they would play it.

But now…now Peter rarely comes to see her anymore, and whenever they play it is because Tiger Lily has requested it. They play whatever Peter wants now, and sometimes Tiger Lily must play with the Lost Boys, too. It makes Tiger Lily scared, because she feels as if she has been replaced.

It is ridiculous, though, because who could Peter have replaced her with? There are no other young girls on the island, Tiger Lily knows, and none of the Lost Boys could've taken her spot. It is a puzzle with no answer, a lock with no key, a word without a meaning; and Tiger Lily tries to ignore it. Acknowledging the change would make it real.

And Neverland never, ever changes. That is why it is called _Never_land. It has always been constant.

But Tiger Lily has a sinking feeling that something has changed everything, because something had changed Peter Pan.

Peter is the heart of Neverland. He knows everything there is to know about the island and everyone loves him. It is impossible not to. Peter is foolish and headstrong and cocky and sweet and touching and lovable and boyishly charming. He is suspended between childhood and manhood, and the mixture is surprisingly endearing.

He is also untouchable, or so Tiger Lily had assumed.

She looks up at Peter, floating there, just barely out of reach, staring up at the stars, and knows instinctively. Something _has _changed Peter, and thus has changed them all because Peter is connected to them all. Whatever has affected him will affect everything; will change the order of things.

Tiger Lily had liked things the way they were. She doesn't want things to change. She wants Peter's attention, his admiration, his respect. She doesn't want his empty, distracted looks or his detachedly toleration. She wants back what has been taken from her by that unknown source.

It is then, it hits Tiger Lily. She cannot remember what has changed Peter Pan, but she can guess.

It hurts. Tiger Lily hasn't felt pain before, not that she can remember. She looks up at Peter, who is still deciding if he wants to stay, but not for her. Not anymore. She shakes her head and steps back, her long dark hair drifting around her.

The warmth of the fire is at her back. "Fine," Tiger Lily snaps up at Peter. "Leave!" She rubs her arm under her nose, to catch her tears. It is dark, so she hopes Peter isn't able to see them. "I don't care," she lies through her teeth."

She turns and runs, disappearing between the teepees before Peter Pan could respond—if he had even been going to. Tiger Lily clenches her teeth against the pain. She stops running, somewhere in the forest. She will pay attention and figure out where she is later. Right now, she looks down at herself, wondering where her wound is. It hurts and aches fiercely, like something has pierced her chest.

But nothing is there. Physically, her heart is untouched. But Tiger Lily doesn't know what heartbreak is, so she doesn't know what she is experiencing. Perhaps that is a good thing. Not knowing what you problem is could be dangerous, but sometimes it is better to remain in the dark.

Tiger Lily sinks to her feet, her legs curling under her, and runs her hands through her hair. She looks up at the sky, to all the stars that capture Peter Pan's attention when she can not. She closes her eyes and feels the tears dry on her cheek.

Her hands fall to her sides, and her left hand brushes against something.

Tiger Lily opens her eyes after a while and looks to her left. Her hand is touching a patch of forget-me-not flowers. Tiger Lily remembers the name because flowers and plants are important to her; after all, as Princess she helps the Medicine Man sometimes, and it is vital that she understands what type of plant he is sending her out to fetch.

But Tiger Lily stares at the forget-me-nots, and it is not their healing or magical properties she is thinking of.

Like a cloud slowly drifting away and uncovering the bright sun, Tiger Lily realizes. She remembers, briefly, and then it is obvious. She doesn't know why it hadn't occurred to her before. She picks a flower and quickly holds it up in front of her face, the full moon's light shining down and lighting up the pure, light blue color of the flower's petals.

Blue forget-me-nots—as blue as that girl's eyes.

Tiger Lily doesn't remember her name, but she does remember her.

She is the girl who had stolen Peter Pan. The girl who had worn the strange blue dress. The girl with the curly hair the color of tree bark. The girl with the musical voice. The girl with the temper, who had stormed away. The girl who Peter Pan had followed more after, with much more enthusiasm and far more quickly than he ever had pursued Tiger Lily. The girl who had bewitched Peter Pan. The girl who had earned his respect, who had become his equal.

The girl with eyes forget-me-not blue.

The girl's name is on the tip of Tiger Lily's tongue, but the Princess hurriedly throws the flower far away, and the name goes with it. Tiger Lily turns and rips up the entire patch of forget-me-nots. She buries them in the dirt, rearranging it so it seamlessly blends into the forest, as if there had never been a patch of forget-me-nots there at all. Tiger Lily resolves to, if she can remember; hide the other patches of forget-me-nots near camp.

For Tiger Lily, remembering is a choice, and this is an easy decision.

She does not want to remember her victorious rival.

Tiger Lily would rather forever wonder why Peter Pan had changed, how he had changed; then forever know that she had lost.


End file.
